M65? 


BALLADS 

f  tl  OF  HELLAS 


273    EES 


/1LLIA.M  HATHORN 


'GIFT  OF 
HaAUrn 


& 


Ballads  of  Hellas 

BY 

WILLIAM  HATHORN  MILLS  A.  M. 


SECOND  EDITION 


LEDERER  STREET  &  ZEUS  COMPANY 

BERKELEY,  CALIFORNIA 
1922 


COPYRIGHT,   1922 
BY  WILLIAM  HATHORN  MILLS 

First  Edition 

GEORGE  BELL  &  SONS 

LONDON,  ENGLAND 

1878 


^Preface 


QUBLISHED  by  George  Bell  and  Sons, 
London,  England,  in  1878,  these  ballads 
have  been  out  of  print  for  nearly  forty 
years.  I  now  re-publish  them  in  the  hope  that 
they  may  again  serve  the  purpose  which  they 
originally  served — i.  e.  that,  in  running  com 
mentaries  on  the  text  of  the  original  accounts 
in  Herodotus  and  Xenophon,  they  may  meet, 
so  far  as  they  go,  the  difficulty  that  young 
learners  experience  in  grasping  the  subject- 
matter  of  their  translation-work.  The  general 
idea  xof  them  was  of  course  suggested  by 
Macaulay's  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,  but,  so 
far  as  the  spirit  of  them  is  concerned,  there 
is  more  in  them  of  Scott  than  of  Macaulay. 
In  those  far-off  days  I  tested  the  ballads  by 
actual  use,  and  was  quite  convinced  of  the 
value  of  the  principle  on  which  they  were 
written.  So  forth  they  fare  again. 

W.  H.  M. 


Contents 


MARATHON 7 

THERMOPYLAE 17 

MANTINEA 33 


MARATHON 


Age  shakes  Athena's  tower 
but  spares  gray  Marathon. 
BYRON. 


is  Persia's  monarch, 
Wrathful  the  Persian  court, 
For  post  on  post  is  bringing 
Tidings  of  dire  import: 
How  that  the  sons  of  Athens, 
From  Hellas'  distant  strand. 
Have  sacked  and  burned  fair  Sardes, 
Pride  of  the  Lydian  land. 


"Who  are  these  sons  of  Athens  ?"- 

In  scorn  Darius  cries; 
He  takes  his  bow;  the  arrow 

Flies  hurtling  to  the  skies; 
"Grant  me" — his  prayer  indignant— 

"Great  Ormuzd,  lord  of  light, 
That  I  may  take  full  vengeance, 

And  break  proud  Athens'  might." 


Thrice  every  meal  a  servant, 

Such  is  his  lord's  behest, 
Bids  him  forget  not  Athens'  name. 
Nor  Athens'  sin,  and  fans  to  flame 

The  fire  within  his  breast ; 
Daily  his  Persians  urge  him — 

"Arm  with  revenge  thy  hand;" 
Nor  ceases  traitorous  Hippias,  fain 
To  rule  bright  Athens  once  again, 

Slandering  his  native  land. 

IV. 

Vanquished   in   fight  at  Lade, 

Ionia's  galleys  fly ; 
And  now  for  many  a  year  resounds 
Thro'  Persia,  to  her   farthest  bounds, 
The  yelping  bark  of  war's  fell  hounds, 

Athirst  for  victory ; 
Till,  the   full  tale  completed, 

A  mighty  archer-host, 
Twelve  myriads  strong,  by  Datis  led 
And  Artaphernes  at  their  head. 

Start  for  the  Hellene  coast. 

v. 

Eretria   soon   the   Persians 

By  treachery   foul  have  ta'en, 
And,  by  a  traitor  led,  they  reach 

Marathon's  spreading  plain ; 
Along  the   shore   the   galleys 

Are  moored  in  dense  array; 
Athwart  the  mead,  from  mount  to  fen, 
The  mighty  mass  of  fighting  men 

Await  the  battle-day. 

VI. 

Out  from  the  gates  of  Athens, 
In  this  their  desperate  need. 


8 


Pheidippides,  the  swift  of  foot, 
Hurries    at   headlong   speed; 

And  to  the  Spartan   rulers 
This  message  doth  he  bear— 

"Leave  not  an  ancient  Hellene   state 
To  the  barbarian  spear." 


"Aye,  we  will   send  an  army," 

The    Spartans    straight   reply ; 
But  superstition  clogs  their  minds, 

Or  is  it  jealousy? 
Till   the   full  moon  has   risen 

They    linger,    to    their    shame; 
Therefore  they  share  nor  in  the  fight, 

Nor  in  the  deathless  fame. 

VIII. 

By  this  the   Athenian  hoplites 

Forth  to  the  war  are  gone, 
And  watch  the  Persian  from  the  heights 

That  look  o'er   Marathon. 
Ten  generals  lead  the  muster 

Of   scarce  nine  thousand  shields ; 
Each  for  one  day  supreme  command 

Over   the   army   wields. 

IX. 

There  is  a  state,  to  Athens 

Linked  by  full  many  a  tie 
Of  gratitude,   for  generous  help, 

And  generous  sympathy; 
Glad  are  the  bold  Plataeans; 

Their  turn  has  come  at  length; 
So  to  the  aid  they  sally  forth 

In  their  full  fighting  strength. 

x. 

A    thousand    strong  they   muster ; 
A  thousand  warriors  true, 


What  tho'  in  number  weak,  in  will 

Strong,  what  they  can,  they  do; 
Therefore,  whene'er  at  Athens 

They  hold  a  sacrifice. 
Twofold   the   blessings   that  are  asked , 

Twofold  the  prayers  that  rise; 
Mingled  with  Athens'  name,  thy  name, 

Plataea,  seeks  the  skies. 

XI. 

Awhile  divided  counsels 

The  Hellene  leaders  sway ; 
Half  wish  to  wait  for  Sparta's  aid, 
Half,  at  the  foe  no  whit  dismayed, 

Are   eager   for   the   fray; 
The  Polemarch  stands  doubting 

Whether  to  fight  or  wait; 
Hellas,  upon  that  moment 

Hung  all  thy  future  fate! 
His  casting  vote  for  battle 

Miltiades  has   won. 
And  Hellas  owes  her  freedom 

To  Kimon's  famous  son. 

XII. 

The  die  is  cast,  and  straightway 

Each  recreant  doubt  is  gone, 
And  great  Miltiades  stands  forth 

Liberty's  champion. 
To  him  as  chief  commander 

The  rest  allegiance  swear, 
And  with  calm  courage  for  the  fray, 
Deferred,  he  wills  it,  till  his  day 

Of  office,  they  prepare. 


Then,  at  the  time  appointed. 
The  tribes  in  order  stand; 
Kallimachos  commands  the  right, 


10 


The  left— to  death  or  victory  dight— * 

Plataea's  little  band; 
Thinly  along  the  centre 

Muster  the  Hellene  shields, 
Fronting  the  Sakians,  and  the  might 
Of  Persia — warriors  for  the  fight 

Trained  by  a  hundred  fields ; 
On  either  flank,  'gainst  meaner  foes, 
They  mass  their  strength,  to  turn  and  close, 

What  time  the  centre  yields. 

XIV. 

And  now  the  Athenian  army 

Is  for  the  fight  arrayed, 
And  the  victims  give  good  omens, 

For  heaven  the  right  doth  aid; 
The  little  host  stand  silent, 

And  their  hearts  beat  full  and  high; 
A  moment's  thought — a  moment's  pause — 

And  "forward"  is  the  cry. 

xv. 
Then  first  did  Hellene  soldiers 

Run  as  they  charged  the  foe; 
Then  first  did  Hellene  soldiers 

Lay  the  barbarians  low ; 
For  strange  the  Median  raiment, 

Dreaded  the  Median  name, 
And   from  the   Median  myriads 

To  fly  men  thought  no  shame. 

XVI. 

Long  time   they   fought;   the   Persian 
Thoro'  the  centre  broke, 


Cp.     The    golden    legend   bore    aright — 

'Who   checks   at   me,    to  death   is    dight. 
— Marmion    I,    VI.    10. 


[11 


And  drove  the  Hellenes  struggling  back, 
And  dealing  stroke   for  stroke ; 

But  Athens'  valour  triumphs 
Victorious  on  the  right, 

And  on  the  left  the  Persian  wing 
Yields  to  Plataea's  might. 


Scorning  pursuit,  the  victors 

Round  on  the  centre  wheel ; 
Before  their  onset's   sweeping  shock 

Persian  and   Sakian  reel ; 
They  reel,  yet  for  a  moment 

Stand,  like  a  wolf,  at  bay; 
They  yield — they  scatter — and  at  length 

Hellas  has  won  the  day. 

XVIII. 

In  terror  the  barbarians 

Make  for  their  ships  again ; 
Hard  on  them  press  the  Hellene  spears. 

And  blows  fall  thick  as  rain ; 
Now  ebbing,  and  now   flowing. 

Surges  the  tide  of   war ; 
Persian  and  Hellene,  hand  to  hand. 
Now  locked  in  deadly  conflict  stand, 

Now  sink  to  rise  no  more. 

XIX. 

Madly  the  Persians  battle, 

Nerved  by  a  blind  despair; 
Madly  they  rush  to  gain  their  ships; 

To  flee  is  all  they  care. 
Ever  and  aye  the  Hellenes 

Charge   with   revengeful   ire: 
Ever  and  aye  with   splendid   rage 

Dash  on,  the  ships  to  fire. 


12 


XX. 

Falls  the  arch-traitor  Hippias, 

Right  through  the  body  thrust; 
Stesileos,  skilled  to  rule  the  fight, 

Staggers,  and  bites  the  dust; 
And,  where  the  fight  is  fiercest. 

Battling  with  might  and  main 
Against  an   overwhelming  host, 

Kallimachos  is  slain; 
Slain   in  his   hour  of  triumph, 

Lies  the  brave  Polemarch; 
Thick  round  him  lie  the  corpses 

Of   Persians,  dead  and  stark. 


There,  too,  the  warrior  poet 

His  sword  resistless  plies ; 
There,   as  he  grasps  a  Persian   ship. 
His  hand  lopped  off  —  unloosed  his  grip, 

Stout  Kynegeiros  dies; 
And  many  a  gallant  Hellene 

Is   weltering  in   his  blood, 
And  many  a  doughty  soldier 

Of  Media's  swarthy  brood; 
But  when  the  cowed  barbarians 

Have  gained  at  length  the  deep, 
Of   Hellenes   scarce  two  hundred 

Sleep  on  their  last  long  sleep, 
While  for  six  thousand  dead  and  more 

Persia's  proud  dames  shall  weep. 


Round  Sounion  to  Phaleron 

Quick  sail  the  foe  and  fast, 
But,  ere  they  make  the  port,  they  see 
Their   conquerors  trooping  home,   and  flee, 

And  Athens  breathes  at  last. 


13 


XXIII. 

So  Persia's  might  has  yielded 

To  a  little  patriot  band, 
And  a  loud  shout  of  triumph 

Echoes  through  all  the  land; 
And    Sparta's   warriors   coming 

Too  late  to  join  the  fray, 
Half-wondering,  half-distrustful,  gaze 
Upon  the  field  of  death,  and  praise 

What  Athens  wrought  that  day. 


14 


THERMOPYLAE 


Toil/  eV  <H)ep//,07n;Xcus  BOLVOVTCDV 

s  ftci/  a  ru^a,  /caXo?  8'  6  TTOT/LIOS, 
8*  6  TCU^OS,  Trpo  yda>^  8e 

6   8*    Ot/CTO?   eTTCLtt/O?, 

oi>  8e  rotovro^  ovr'  evpcos 


SlMONIDES 

Fair  was  their  fate,  and  proud  their  doom. 

Who  met  death  at  Thermopylae; 
As  a  high  altar  stands  their  tomb, 

And  paeans  hymn  their  memory, 
Not  threnes.     Such  shroud  nor   dank  decay, 
Nor  despot  Time,  shall  wear  away. 


1 

THERMOPYLAE  f 


eREAT  XERXES,  lord  of  Persia, 
And  many  a  vassal  realm, 
Purposed  the  land  of  Hellas 
In  ruin  to  o'erwhelm ; 
Leonidas,   the   Spartan, 

His  onset  fierce  withstood, 
Who  pledged  his  faith  to  Freedom, 
And  sealed  it  with  his  blood. 

ii. 
Not  of  himself  had  Xerxes 

Thought  to  work  Hellas  ill, 
But  evil  counsel  urged  him  on 

Against  his  milder  will; 
Mardonios,  hot  and  headstrong, 

Was  ever  at  his  side 
To  spur  him  on  to  thoughts  of  fame, 
Nor  lacked  there  of  the  Hellene  name 
Traitors,  who,  void  of  ruth  or  shame, 

Fostered  his  empty  pride. 


III. 
These  all,  at  feast  and  council. 

Gave  him  nor  peace  nor  rest, 
Till  they  had  roused  the  lust  of  power 

Within   his  puny  breast; 
Not   e'en   might  Artabanos 

His  lord's  ambition  bound ; 
In  the  wild  clamour  of  the  rest 

His  single  voice  was  drowned. 


So   forth  throughout  wide   Persia 

Due  proclamation  went, 
And  half  a  hundred  nations  round 
Mustered  their  forces  at  the  sound, 

To   swell   the   armament; 
For  four  long  years  re-echoed 

The  din  of  gathering  war, 
Till  by  Kritalla's  walls  at  last 
Met  the  confederate  army,  vast 

As  never  host  before. 


v. 
Came   Sakians,   Medes,   Hyrkanians, 

With  Persia's  native  might; 
Chorasmians,  Parthians,  Kissians, 

Equipped  them  for  the  fight. 
Tiara-crowned,    and   wearing 

Long  sleeves,  and  broidered  trews ; 
And  eke  Sagartia's  horsemen  grim, 
Of  supple  frame  and  sinewy  limb, 

Who   fling  the  leathern  noose. 

VI. 

From  mountains  bleak  and  rugged, 

Drear  steppes,  and  broad  champaigns, 
Came  nomad  tribes,  and  savage  swarms, 
In  motley  garb,  with  motley  arms : 


18 


Came  India's  wild  and  dusky  hordes, 
Arabia's  bows,   Assyria's   swords : 
Came  Aethiopia's  painted  braves. 
And  warriors  armed  with  wooden  staves 

From  Libya's  arid  plains ; 
Phoenicia  sent  her  galleys, 

Egypt  her  naval  host ; 
Ionia  manned  her  ships,  and   came. 
With  tribes  of  every  race  and  name, 

Dwelling  on  Asia's  coast. 

VII. 

Across  Mount  Athos'  isthmus, 

Beneath  the  lash,  the  while. 
Dug  toiling  gangs  a  channel  deep. 
Through  which,  two  ships  abreast,  might  sweep 

The  fleet  in  ordered  file ; 
And  o'er  the  strait  of  Helle, 

Stretching  from  shore  to  shore, 
Of  cables  tough  a  bridge  was  wrought. 

Seven  stades  in  length  or  more. 

VIII. 

Wintered  the  host  at  Sardes ; 

Thence,  in  proud  Xerxes'  name. 
Went  heralds  forth  to  Hellas, 

Water  and  earth  to  claim ; 
Then  first  thy  billows,  Helle, 

Brooked  fetter,  brand,  and  scourge. 
What  time  the  tempest's  stormy  breath 
Had  whelmed  the  cable-bridge  beneath 

Thy  "false  and  briny"   surge. 


His  wrath  appeased,  the  monarch 
Gave  sharp  and  stern  command, 

And  with  a  double  bridge  of  boats 
Anon  the  strait  was  spanned; 


19 


Then,  with  the  spring,  the  army 
Bent  to  the  north  their  way. 

And  in  Abydos'  plain  at  length 
Drew  out  their  proud  array. 


There   from  a  throne  of  marble 

Xerxes  his  troops  surveyed ; 
Far  over  plain  and  winding  shore 

Glittered  their  long  parade ; 
Adown  the  strait  his  galleys 

In  mimic  battle  swept; 
One  moment,   as  he   gazed   around, 

His  heart  exulting  leapt; 
The  next  —  he  bowed  him  on  his  throne : 
For  that  of  all  his  host  not  one, 
When  once  a  hundred  years  had  run 
Their  course,  should  see  the  gladsome  sun 

Then  veiled  his  face,  and  wept. 


Thence  after  due  libations 

And  solemn  rites,  the  host 
Over  the  two  long  causeways  passed 
Seven  days  and  nights,  in  order  vast, 

On  to  the  Thracian  coast ; 
Then  westward  to  Doriskos, 

Keeping  the  fleet  in  view, 
Like   land-wave   surging  deep   and   wide, 
In  all  their  glittering  pomp  and  pride. 

Rolled  on  the  unwieldy  crew. 


XII. 

There  was  the   army  numbered; 

Riding  their   ranks   along, 
Might  Xerxes  mark  with  kindling  eye 
A  wondrous  multitude,  well-nigh 

Two  hundred  myriads  strong; 

[20] 


Ranged  in  a  line  at  anchor, 
Four  plethra  from  the  shore, 

Lay,   'mid  a  host  of   smaller  craft, 
Twelve  hundred  ships  of  war. 

XIII. 

Still  westward  slow  advancing 

They  pressed  toward  their  goal ; 
Tribe  after  tribe  came  flocking  in 

To  swell  the  muster-roll; 
Till  when  at  length  they  halted 

Beneath  Olympos'  mount, 
How  many  myriads  piled  their  arms 

'Twere  hard,  I  ween,  to  count. 

XIV. 

What  need  to  tell  of  rivers 

Drained  by  that  vast  array: 
Of  cities,  forced  but  once  to  feed 
The  mighty  horde,  to  direst  need 

Reduced  for  many  a  day? 
For  far  and  wide  the  army 

Left  havoc  in  its  trail, 
And  many  a  ravaged  land  to  heaven 

Sent  up  its  dismal  wail. 

xv. 

Through  Tempe's  pass  defiling. 

Southward  the  mighty  throng, 
Nation  by  nation,  troop  by  troop, 

Dragged  its  huge  length  along; 
Thessalia  yields  submission, 

Too  weak  to  stand  alone; 
Yet,  had  the  rest  but  sent  their  aid, 
Her   warrior    sons,   all   undismayed, 

Had   stoutly  held   their   own. 

XVI. 

What  now  of  Hellas?     Sleeps  she 
In  sullen  apathy? 

[21] 


Why  comes  she  not  with  banded  might 
To  face  the  foe,  and  dare  the  fight 

With  all  her  chivalry? 
What  boots  this  little  handful- 
Seven  thousand  men   at  arms? 
How  may  their  ranks  unbroken  stand, 
When  swoops  the  Persian  on  the  land. 
With  all   his  countless  swarms? 

XVil. 

Tis  that  at  home  the  Spartans 

The    feast   Karneian   hold : 
That    Hellas   counts    Olympia's   wreaths 

Dearer  than  crowns  of  gold; 
Therefore   three  hundred   Spartans, 

With  Helots  and  allies, 
Have   sworn   to   stem   the   foe's   advance, 
And  tell  proud  Xerxes— chance  what  chance, 

Hellas  his  power  defies. 

xvi  n. 
Where  Oeta's  craggy  grandeur 

Frowns  beetling  o'er  the   sea, 
There  lies,  'twixt  mountain  and  morass, 
A  mile  in  length,  a  narrow  pass 

Yclept    Thermopylae ; 
There  to  confront  the  Persian, 

And  bar  his  onward  way. 
The  Hellene  troop  with  courage  high, 
And  fixed  resolve  to  do  or  die, 

Halted,  and   stood   at  bay. 

XIX. 

Outside  the  pass,  and  over 

Against  its  northern  neck, 
They  piled  anew  the  ruined  wall. 

The  Persian  rush  to  check; 
High  on  the  hill  above  them 

Encamped  the  Phokians  sate, 


To  guard  the  mountain  path  which  led 
Round  to  the  southern  gate. 

xx. 

At  length  by  Trachis'  city 

Drew  up  the  Persian  host ; 
Their  galleys  lined  the  shore,  or  rode 

At  anchor  off  the  coast ; 
Facing  the  huge  armada, 

In  thin  but  firm  array, 
Off  Artemision's  wave-swept  point 

The  Hellene  triremes  lav. 


Then  from  the  Persian  army 

Rode  out  a  horseman,  sent 
To  scan  the  Hellenes'  camp,  and  learn 

Their  number  and  intent ; 
Unchecked  he  watched  the  Spartans. 

Without  the  pass  on  guard. 
Combing  with  care  their  flowing  hair. 

Or  wrestling  on  the  sward. 

XXII. 

Back  to  the  Persian  monarch 

He  bore  his  strange  report. 
Who  said — "These  Spartans  will  not  fight 
For  aye  their  games,  their  solemn  rite, 

He  held  but  idle  sport; 
Four  days  till  they  should  scatter, 

Or  yield,  he  stayed  the  attack, 
Then  wrathful  bade  his  warriors  charge 

And  bring  them  prisoners  back. 

xxnr. 
As  ocean  waves  all  vainly 

Dash  on  some  rock-bound  coast, 


|  23] 


So  vainly  on  the  Hellene  ranks 

Dashes  the  Persian  host; 
Back  from  the  rocks  the  billows 

Recoil  in  broken  spray; 
Broken  recoils  the  Persian  line 

From  Sparta's  fierce  array. 

XXIV. 

Forth,  as  in  blind  disorder 

Retires  the  routed  mass, 
Step  the  far-famed  Immortals, 

And  charge  to  win  the  pass ; 
Avails  not  aught  their  prowess, 

Their  valour  proved  and  high ; 
On  the  long  lances'  serried  fence 

The}*  hurl  themselves  to  die. 

XXV. 

High  on  a  gilded  dais, 

Amidst  a   glittering  crowd. 
To  scan  the  fight  sate  Xerxes, 

All  jubilant  and  proud; 
Full  soon  his  pride  was  lowered. 

As  hopes  died  out  in  fears; 
Thrice  from  his  seat  he  leapt  aghast, 
As  reeling  backward,  thick  and  fast. 
Like  trees  before  tornado's  blast, 

Went  down  his  bravest  spears. 

XXVI. 

Two  days  they  fought,  but  ever 

The  Persians  fought  in  vain; 
That  bristling  front  they  might  not  pierce, 

The  pass  they  might  not  gain; 
Till,  heaven's  curse  on  the  traitor ! 

Blinded  by  lust  of  gold. 
The  secret  of  the  mountain-path 

False  Ephialtes  told. 


24 


XXVII. 

Calm  broke  the  morn,  and  stilly, 

As  up  the  mountain-side 
Hydarnes'  doughty  warriors  pressed, 

Led  by  their  traitor  guide ; 
Far,  in  the  morning  silence, 

The  Phokians  heard  the  sound 
Of  trampling  feet  that  crushed  the  leaves, 

Thick  strewing  all  the  ground. 

XXVIII. 

Ah!    Phokis— where  thy  valour? 

Where  now  thy  vaunted  might? 
Why  quit  thy  sons  their  chosen  post? 

Why  flee  they  to  the  height? 
Reck  not  of  you  these  foemen — 

They  seek  a  nobler  prey; 
Mark  how  they  hold  their  onward  course 

Along  the  unguarded  way; 
That  single  arrow-flight  has  changed 

The  fortune  of  the  day. 


Warned  of  the  coming  danger. 

The  little  host  below 
Hold  counsel,  or  to  shun  the  fray, 
Or  sell  as  dearly  as  they  may 

Their  lives  unto  the  foe; 
Needs  not  to  tell  how  sternly 

The  Spartan  scorns  to  fly, 
Who,  if  he  may  not  win  the  fight, 
Counts  it  a  little  thing,  and  light, 

In  duty's  cause  to  die. 


XXX. 

First,  in  his  right  of  office, 
Uprose  Leonidas ; 

[25  1 


"Spartans,"  he  cried,  "  'tis  ours  to  save 
Our  country,  ours  to  find  a  grave 

Within  this  narrow  pass ; 
And  since  or  king  of  Sparta, 

(So   destiny  has   willed) 
Or  Sparta's  self  must  fall,  in  me 
This  day  the  Delphic  god  shall  see 

His  oracle  fulfilled. 


XXXI. 

"Enough  are  we  for  glory; 

Enough  are  we  to  show 
What  hearts  in  Hellene  bosoms  beat: 
What  welcome  stern  and  fierce  shall  greet 

The  onward  marching  foe. 
Sparta's  be  all  the  battle ; 

Sparta's  shall  be  the  fame; 
Let  our  allies  while  yet  they  may 
Withdraw,  in  less  unequal  fray 
To  drive  the  Persian  in  dismay 

Back  by  the  way  he  came" 

XXXII. 

He  spake ;  the  allies  assenting 

March  from  the  pass  full  speed, 
But  the  brave  Thespians  will  not  quit 

The  hero  in  his  need; 
The  Theban  troop  reluctant 

Must  stay  their  faith  to  prove; 
Abides  Megistias.  blameless  seer, 
Whose  patriot  soul  nor  fate  nor  fear 

Can  from  it's  purpose  move. 

XXXIII. 

The  foe  is  up ;  no  longer 

His  fierce  attack  they  wait, 
But  sallying  out  beyond  the  wall 

Charge  reckless  of  their  fate. 

[26] 


In  forefront  of  the  battle 

Towers  the  Spartan  king ; 
Back  from  the  fury  of  his  spear 
The  Persians  shrink  in  craven  fear, 
And  distant  javelins  fling. 


xxxiv. 
Long  raged  the  mortal  conflict, 

For  Hellas  fought  amain ; 

Thrust  through,  down-trampled,  mass  on  mass, 
Lay,  strown  upon  the  blood-stained  grass, 
Or  stifled  in  the  deep  morass, 

By  thousands  Persia's  slain ; 
Till,  their  long  spears  all  broken, 

Each  Hellene  drew  his  brand, 
For  now  the  foe  came  closing  up 

Round  their  beleaguered  band, 
And  lashed  with  scourges  to  the  fight, 

'Countered  them  hand  to  hand. 


Then  brooked  the  Spartan  sword-thrust 

Full  many  a  Persian  wight, 
And  many  a  bold  barbarian  fell 

Before  the  Thespian  might; 
But  aye  the  storm  of  battle 

Thicker  and  thicker  grow; 
And  aye  the  Persians'  crescent  host 

Closer  and  closer  drew. 


xxxvi. 
Down  is  the  Spartan  chieftain — 

Shivered  that  heart  of  steel ; 
Fierce  o'er  his  corse  his  comrades  fight : 
Four  times  before  their  desperate  might 

Staggering  the  Persians  reel ; 
Fall  prince  and  princely  noble ; 

[27] 


Fall  Xerxes'  brethren  twain; 
Sparta's  and  Persia's  royal  blood 
Flows  mingling  in  one  streaming  flood 

Over  the  reeking  plain. 

XXXVII. 

O'ermatched,  outnumbered,  ever 

The  Hellenes  held  their  ground, 
Tho'  aye  their  ranks  were  thinning  fast 
Till  from  the  rear  rang  stern  at  last 

A  deep  and  ominous  sound — 
The  sound  of  clanging  armour: 

The  measured  tramp  of  feet : 
'Twas  fierce  Hydarnes  hurrying  up 

The  slaughter  to  complete. 

xxxvin. 

Then  slow  the  little  remnant, 

Face  to  the  foe,  fell  back; 
Crossing  the  wall  they  sate  them  down 

To  bide  the  last  attack ; 
There,  on  a  grassy  hillock, 

Hemmed  in  on  every  side, 
Shot  down  by  javelin,  bolt,  and  dart, 

They  fought,  and  fighting  died. 

XXXIX. 

Now,  on  that  little  hillock- 
Emblem  of  hearts  as  brave — 

A  marble  lion  stands  to  mark 
The  Spartan  chieftain's  grave; 

Hard  by  twain  lettered  pillars 
The  desperate  fight  record, 

And  bid  the  passing  stranger  tell 

Sparta  how  bravely  and  how  well 
Her  sons  obeyed  her  word. 


28 


XL. 

Not  vain  thy  self-devotion, 

High-souled  Leonidas; 
Nor  vainly  with  thee  fought  and   fell 

Those  heroes  of  the  pass ; 
Ye  thrilled  the  heart  of  Hellas : 

Ye  nerved  each  Hellene  hand 
To  strike  the  blow,  that  swept  the  foe 

In  ruin  from  the  land. 

XLl. 

Aye ;   for  your  bright  ensample 

Lit  Freedom's  sacred  flame, 
That  broader  blazed  in  after-time, 
And  spread  thro'  every  realm  and  clime 

Your  memory  and  your   fame ; 
A  little  time  of  waiting — 

Then,  with  fair  victory  blest. 
Shall  Salamis  your  death  requite, 
And  proud  Plataea's  crowning  fight 

Give  a  free  Hellas  rest. 

XLll. 

Upon  that  scene  of  slaughter 

Turns  Hellas  reverent  gaze. 
And,  bending  proudly  o'er  your  tomb, 

Gives  you  not  tears  but  praise ; 
Counting  that  tomb  an  altar, 

Whereon  she  laid  her  best : 
Your  name — a  watchword  and  a  power 

To  fire  each  patriot  breast : 
Your  deed — to  all  her  warrior  sons 

A  mute  but  proud  bequest. 

XUII. 

Sleep  on ;  succeeding  ages 

Shall  keep  your  memory  green ; 

[29] 


Devouring  time  shall  have  no  strength 

To  dim  your  glory's  sheen ; 
Lives,  and  shall  live  for  ever, 

Among  the  brave  and  free. 
The  story  of  the  gallant  fight, 

Fought  at  Thermopylae. 


30 


MANTINEA 


Flebili  sponsae  invenemve  raptum 
PI  or  at,  et  vires  animumque  moresque 
Attreos  edncit  in  astra,  niyroque 
Irwidet  Ocro. 

HORACE. 


MANTINEA 


[OURN,  land  of  Muse  and  hero : 

Bow,  Thebes,  in  grief  thy  head : 
Let  dirge  and  funeral  anthem 
Honour  the  mighty  dead ; 
Let  a  nation's  tears  bear  witness, 

A  nation's  heart  attest, 
That  of  her  warriors,  good  and  brave, 
Now  lies  within  his  narrow  grave 
The  bravest  and  the  best 


And  yet  what  death  more  noble 

Could  warrior  hope  to  gain 
Than  his,  whose  life-blood  dyes  the  earth 

Of  Mantinea's  plain? 
He  smote  the  rebel-leaguers ; 

He  laid  the  Spartan  low. 
And  victory  flung  a  fadeless  wreath 

Around  his  dying  brow. 


III. 
Statesman  and  soldier  peerless, 

True  patriot  aye  and  leal, 
Without  one  thought  of  self,  he  sought 

Only  his  country's  weal ; 
In  the  long  line  of  heroes 

Enshrined  in  history's  roll 
Earth  boasts  no  nobler  life  than  his, 

No  brighter,  purer  soul. 

IV. 

What  unto  him  thou  owest 

Let  Leuktra's  victory  tell, 
And  twice  two  hundred  Spartan  shields 

That  grace  our  citadel ; 
Witness  each  state  and  city 

Freed  from  proud  Sparta's  yoke, 
And  pay  your  homage  to  his  name 

Her  despot-power  who  broke. 


The  Spartan  aye  has  borne  him 

Right  bravely  in  the  field ; 
Not  once  nor  twice  has  Athens 

Made  Persia's  armies  yield; 
But,  as  the  stars  of  heaven 

Faint  at  the  dawning  light, 
So  at  the  sun  of  Thebes'  high  fame 
Paled  Sparta's  pride,  and  Athens'  name, 

Dimmed  by  its  lustre  bright. 

VI. 

Yet  fate  had  used  him  hardly 

Before  his  crowning  fight, 
Or  Sparta's  self,  as  nest  forlorn, 

Had  yielded  to  his  might; 
Had  not  some  adverse  daemon 

Stolen  their  wonted  force, 


34 


False  Mantinea's  neck  had  bent 
Before  our  gallant  horse. 

VII. 

'Tis  ever  thus;  the  Immortals, 

Who  careless  dwell  on  high, 
Look  down  at  times  on  deeds  of  men 

In  wrath  and  jealousy; 
Of  human  pain  and  anguish 

Little  they  reck  or  think; 
But,  when  a  mortal  man's  success 
Surmounts,  his  bark  all  pitiless 

In  sight  of  port  they  sink. 

VIII. 

Yet  tho'  their  idle  malice 

Might  will  to  work  him  harm, 
It  might  not  daunt  his  soul,  nor  break 

The  vigour  of  his  arm ; 
Unflinching  and  unbending, 

By  high  resolve  upborne, 
He  rose  superior  to  his  fate, 

And  laughed  mischance  to  scorn. 


'Twas  Mantinea's  treason, 

And  Sparta's  selfish  greed, 
That  brought  us  from  our  northern  home 

To  meet,  our  country's  need ; 
Came  with  us  from  Euboea 

Full   many   a   staunch   ally, 
And,  ranging  with  our  Theban  horse, 

Thessalia's  cavalry. 

x. 

Crossing  the  isthmus,  southward 
Our  slow  battalions  filed, 


[35] 


Till  within  Tegea's  ancient  walls 
Halting  our  arms  we  piled; 

There  flocked  to  join  our  standard 
The  Argives,  man  by  man : 

The  troops  of  Tegea,  leal  and  true, 

Chief  of  Arkadia's  faithful  few : 
Messenia's  warlike  clan. 


Meantime  the  Mantineans, 

With  panic-terror  crushed, 
Sent  in  hot  haste  for  Sparta's  aid ; 
Forth,  with  battalions  all  arrayed, 

Agesilaos  rushed ; 
Reft  of  her  living  rampart, 

Sparta  defenceless  lay; 
As  falcon  to  its  quarry  stoops, 
Dashed  on  the  town  our  fiery  troops ; 
But  some  ill  chance  had  sent  the  alarm. 
And  some  ill  spell   unnerved  our  arm, 

And  robbed  us  of  our  prey. 


Back  to  our  main  encampment, 

Without  an  hour's  delay, 
We  marched,  our  force  to  gather 

For  a  decisive  fray; 
Forward  to   Mantinea, 

On  fruitless  errand  bent, 
To  meet  repulse  from  Athens'  horse, 

Our  cavalry  was  sent. 


Unmoved  by  disappointments, 

Where,  with  his  pine-woods  crowned, 
Looms  Maenalus  above  the  plain, 

Northward  our  march  we  wound : 


36 


Till  in  the  pass  before  us 

We  saw  the  foe  at  bay, 
With  threatening  front  and  bristling  line 

Drawn  up  to  bar  the  way. 

XIV. 

We  grounded  arms,  and  halted, 

As  tho'  declining  fight, 
And  watched  their  footmen  quit  the  ranks, 

Their  horsemen  down  alight ; 
Then  at  the  word  deploying 

Our  columns  into  line, 
We  faced  the  foe,  and  stood  to  arms, 

Waiting  the  battle-sign. 

xv. 

The  left,  the  post  of  honour, 

We,  of  the  Theban  name, 
Held,  massed  in  columns  fifty  deep, 
Both  horse  and  foot — unstained  to  keep 

That  day  our  country's  fame; 
Next  our  allies  lay  posted 

Less  deep,  with  wider  front, 
Along  the  centre  and  the  right, 
Our  onset  to  support,  nor  fight 

Till  we  had  borne  the  brunt. 

XVI 

We  charged — the  foe  confounded 

Marked  our  advancing  host ; 
Sprang  to  his  steed  each  horseman, 

Each  footman  to  his  post; 
Nearer  the  while  and  nearer 

Down  on  their  ranks  we  bore ; 
Loud,  as  our  battle  swept  aslant 
Upon  them,  pealed  our  paean-chant ; 
Sullen  their  answering  challenge   rang, 

[37] 


While  tramp  of  feet,  and  armour's  clang, 
Swelled  the  tumultuous  roar. 


XVII. 

Then  crashed  our  Theban  phalanx 

Full  on  the  Spartan  right, 
Where  all  their  Dorian  chivalry 

Were  marshalled  for  the  fight; 
Before  that  furious  onslaught 

The  Dorian  courage  quailed, 
For  'gainst  that  mighty  column-rush 

Nor  sword  nor  spear  availed. 

XVIII. 

Routed  they  fled ;  they  might  not 

Withstand  the  fierce  attack; 
The  day  was  ours ;  for  at  the  sight 
Broke  Elis  and  Achaia's  might, 
False  Mantinea  took  to  flight, 

And  Athens'  horse  fell  back; 
But  horror  chill  and  sudden 

Thrilled  all  our  hearts  with  fear, 
For  where,  like  pine-tree  straight  and  tall, 
He  fought,  the  foremost  of  us  all, 
We  saw  our  gallant  leader  fall, 

Pierced  by  a  foeman's  spear. 

xix. 
Too  well  the  Spartans  knew  him 

Our  champion  and  our  stay: 
Knew  him  their  fiercest,  sternest  foe 

In  many  a  hard-fought  fray ; 
And  many  a  dart  had  pierced  him 

Sped  with  revengeful  aim, 
And  many  a  lance  had  sought  his  breast 
As  on  the  flying  rout  he  pressed, 

Before  his  death-wound  came. 

[38] 


XX. 

Nought  recked  we  of  pursuing, 

Tho'  now  in  full  retreat 
The  foe  were  scattering  far  and  wide, 
Careless  the  while  what  might  betide, 
So  we  might  guard  the  latest  breath 
Of  him,  who  stricken  to  his  death, 

Lay  senseless  at  our  feet ; 
Gently  we  raised  him,  gently 

We  bore  him  from  the  field, 
Still  in  his  breast  the  spear-head, 

Still  at  his  side  his  shield. 

XXL 

Out  of  the  din  of  battle 

He  raised  his  filming  eyes : 

"My  shield?" — "  'Tis  safe  ;"  "The  victory?" — "Ours 
He  heard ;  it  nerved  his  failing  powers ; 

He  faintly  strove  to  rise ; 
"'Tis   well,"   he    said;    "unconquered 

A  soldier's  death  I  die ;" 
And  with  a  proud  smile  lift  his  face 

Up  to  the  golden  sky. 

XXII. 

Then — "Send  me  Daiphantos  : 

Send   lolaidas;" 

We  only  turned  a  mournful  glance 
To  where,  'mid  shivered  sword  and  lance, 

Each  lay,  a  gory  mass. 
He  looked,  and  saw  his  answer 

In  each  averted  face; 

"Both  dead,"  he  sighed ;  "then  must  ye  make 
Peace  with  the  foe  for  Hellas'  sake;" 

Then  mused  a  little  space. 

XXIII 

Silent   we    stood   around   him, 
For  we  knew  all  help  was  vain, 


39 


And  the  death-drops  gathered  on  his  brow, 

White  with  his  deadly  pain ; 
Till,  mastered  by  his  anguish, 

"Pull  out  the  spear" — he  said ; 
We  dragged  it  out;  the  crimson  blood 
Gushed  forth,  and  in  that  noble  flood 

His  hero-spirit  fled 

XXIV. 

Light  lie,  Epaminondas, 

The  earth  upon  thy  breast; 
In  war  and  strife  has  been  thy  life, 

Peaceful  shall  be  thy  rest; 
In  the  far  distant  islands, 

Where  the  blest  spirits   roam, 
The  shades  of  all  the  glorious  dead 

Shall  bid  thee  welcome  home. 


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